Towelhead DVDReview

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A social commentary that bites off more than it can chew.

By Jason P. Vargo

Following in the footsteps of his previous work dissecting suburban life, writer/director Alan Ball again takes a stab at peeling away the layers of seeming normalcy in Towelhead. This time, instead of a Caucasian clan (American Beauty), he adapts Alicia Erian's novel of the same name centering on a young Lebanese-American girl discovering sex for the first time.

When Jasira (Summer Bishil) moves in with her traditional father Rifat (Peter Macdissi) in Texas, she is confronted with the "proper" role of a woman and blatant racism in school. An Army reservist neighbor (Aaron Eckhart) takes a liking to her, as does an African-American boy from school. Coupled with a well-meaning couple in the neighborhood, this combustible mix of personalities and beliefs tear at Jasira.

The controversial title of the film should be noted first and foremost. "Towelhead" is commonly used as a racial slur against people of perceived Middle Eastern background even if they do not wear the traditional cloth head coverings. According to the special features, this word -- along with "raghead" and "sand nigger," among others -- became popular following the September 11, 2001, attacks. And the film makes full use of these slurs to denigrate and demean Jasira, making the story more than a bit uncomfortable to sit through. Audiences are, for better or worse, used to hearing one African-American characters use the term "nigger" or gays to call each other "fag" and "homo." But "towelhead" is a different level of slur since the minority group it is being leveled at has not reclaimed it for themselves. Each time 13-year-old Jasira is mocked because of the color of her skin, it can't help but make the audience shift uneasily in their seats. The better angels of our nature know it is wrong to use this type of terminology, yet we're also acutely aware slurs are used as a way to hurt each other.

Another component adding to an already skeezy experience is a constant bombardment of sexual language and actions centering around Jasira. From the opening sequence, where her genitals are shaved by her mother's boyfriend to depictions of bloody tampons and gently used condoms (not to mention two pedophilic encounters with Eckhart's Travis Vuoso), Towelhead is not ashamed to be as graphic as it possibly can be in the service of the story it so desperately wants to tell. The problem is that these parts work together in a way Ball never intended. Instead of being a morality tale or an appeal to common sense, the journey feels dirty, almost exploitative in the end. Is this a story centering on a young girl learning to stand up for herself? Or is it about her sexual awakening? It can absolutely be about both, though there needs to be a medium between each plot. The pendulum swings so far from one side to another, not to mention a third way, the audience experiences whiplash trying to keep up.

That third way is a commentary on a specific value system. Intentionally or not, Rifat is depicted as just short of a two-faced racist monster. In some way, the audience knows it is coming even before Rifat utters his first word; we cringe every time his daughter does something which can potentially lead to another slap in the face. Even though a father doesn't need to completely justify his decisions to a daughter, a character needs to justify them to the audience. Where did the notion a tampon is only for married women come from? What is it about Jasira and Thomas being friends which will put her reputation at risk? Where is the set of rules Jasira is supposed to live by? Surely they were discussed. See, Rifat doesn't even bother to mask any of these things by the end of the film. His character is simply that of monster.

And that is the ultimate downfall of Towelhead. Instead of being a grand discourse on the way language and beliefs can hurt people, it devolves into a head-scratchingly gratuitous mess. There are so many competing plots, characters and storylines that when they eventually do converge, none are given adequate resolution. It is a symptom of the film on a bigger scale also. Ball concerns himself far too much with shock value at the expense of telling a complete story. Why are these people the way they are? Why do neighbors Mel and Gil (Toni Collette, Matt Letsher) go so far out of their way to help Jasira? Is there a history of Vuoso abusing other girls? All of that is thrown to the back burner in favor of unsettling the audience to such a degree we can't wait for the movie to end. It's only then do we know we -- and the other characters -- are safe from this nightmare.

Even so, it took courage to be a part of this movie. Eckhart plays radically against his good guy personae here, creating a person the audience feels should be skinned alive. Meanwhile, it's Bishil who takes the biggest leap, allowing herself to be completely vulnerable, subject to the whim of everyone around her. Playing five years her junior, this may be a career -- defining performance for the actress. Then there's the simple fact the production tries to do something socially responsible by confronting these issues head on. It's unfortunate, in the end, the title and too many plotlines kept it from achieving what it set out to.